When Fanfictions go bad
by X Orangey x Love X
Summary: Wheeeeeee! I'm slap happy. And I should probably summarize the story, and not my current state of mind. Wheeeeee! Okay, seriously. Summary is coming soon. Summary: A lesson to bad Fanfic writers everywhere.'
1. Chapter 1

۞ This is based off another fanfic my friend read, than made me read. I have no idea of who the original was by, but if you read this, and object, say so, and I'll take it off. :3 ۞

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Samantha was a writer. Needless to say, she wasn't the best out there. 

Sure, she did alright for the most part. She used punctuation and capitalized her words. In general, her writing skills didn't leave one cringing.

Sort of.

The majority of Sam's work was on a vast range of subjects. Mostly fanfics about _Warriors_, a series by Erin Hunter. In most of her stories, the main character was a kittypet, who suddenly decided to be a clan cat. They also usually had this recently made clan cat turn into the most amazing of Warriors, and jump from Warrior status, to Deputy, and then soon after, Leader. All within the parameters of two chapters.

So, one day, when Sam got home from school, she followed her schedule to the letter. She got home, and went into her room. Then, she turned on her computer. While waiting, she would dump her book bag on the floor, and attempt to get a brush through her hair. Hovering in front of the mirror, Sam looked at herself, taking in her appearance. Straight brown hair, almost green eyes, a random t-shirt and jeans, and the 'Who Cares' attitude she always had.

Next on the schedule was to slide into the chair before the computer. She logged onto her word processing program, and began to type.

**"Skypaw! What are you doing?" The shout was from an orange tabby sitting on a white picket fence. **

**Skypaw raised her head, and looked up at the tabby. "Hunting. Are you coming yet?"**

**"Yes." The tabby jumped down, and brushed against the white apprentice as she walked into the woods. Skypaw followed. **

**"I'm going to get into so much trouble for this. Don't follow me." Skypaw skittered away, into the underbrush, leaving the tabby standing there.**

This was the way most fanfictions started with Samantha. As she continued to type, Sam felt a tug below her navel. She jumped, started, and looked down. Seeing nothing, she shrugged off the feeling, and kept typing. With a rush of wind, she passed out, disappearing completely from her room.


	2. Chapter 2

۞ This is based off another fanfic my friend read, than made me read. I have no idea of who the original was by, but if you read this, and object, say so, and I'll take it off. :3 ۞

* * *

When she woke, she spazzed. Literally, she jumped about a foot in the air. Considering Sam wasn't exactly the most athletic out there, this puzzled her. Blinking around at her surroundings, the noticed that her senses were far more acute than they had been previously. All around her was a forest, with scents of cats floating around her. There were many cats somewhere to her right. There was the babbling sound of a brook to her left. 

Finding that she was in fact thirsty, she headed to her left. Licking her lips reflexively, she jumped again; her rough tongue was not greeted with human things of flesh, but with fur. Confused, she lifted her arm to her face, and found a paw, covered in patched white and grey fur. Narrowing her eyes, she sat back, realizing that she had four legs, and a tail.

All thoughts fled to waking up. This must be some bizarre dream. Maybe her parents had found her, and she had banged up her head on her night stand, and she was in the hospital having some trippy dream 'cause they had given her morphine.

Probably not.

Lifting a furry arm to her jaws, Sam clamped down onto the thin limb. Pain rocketed through her, and she dropped it immediately. She wasn't fond of pain.

Rising once again, Sam began walking towards the brook, marvelling at how she could navigate over the terrain, where she normally would have falling again and again. Two legs were actually very clumsy, compared to having four limbs, and a tail, with which to keep one's balance.

Upon reaching the brook, she swallowed several mouthfuls of the cold, clear liquid. She stuck a paw in, suprised that she didn't feel disgusted that it was touching her body, and soaking her fur. She pulled it out, and sat there, staring aimlessly into the water. She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts, that she forgot to pay attention, and was approached by another cat.

"Number Three-thirty-two, you'd better come with me." She jumped as a masculine voice spoke at her. Jumping for what had to be the third time since she'd arrived, she stared blankly at a silver tabby.

"Huh?" Blankly, Sam blinked at him, ignoring the look of annoyance on his features.

"Just come with me." He sighed, exasperated already, as if she wasn't accustomed to dealing with.. other beings.

Not so easily swayed, Sam still sat there, looking warily at the other cat. "Who are you?"

He hesitated, then answered slowly, as if he didn't think he should share any information with an outsider. "I'm PlotlessStory. NOW will you follow?"

Finding that there wasn't much else to do, Sam rose, pondering what the heck PlotlessStory could be talking about. Or rather, what the heck his parents had been thinking. Why would you name your kit 'Plotless?' That was very dumb.

"You aren't one to judge." Murmured PlotlessStory, reading her thoughts. Sam jumped, more confused as ever. Turning, he smiled wryly at her. "It will become clear in time."

The scent of clan cats thickened, and Sam began to grow mildly nervous. Was she being brought to her death, because she was number Three-Thirty-Two?

"Nope." He continued walking, and ducked under a bush. She followed, eyes widening as the mad rush of a clan became visible. Cats of every shape and size were everywhere. Two who seemed to be in charge sat on a large rock. More cats, all looking about the age of apprentices were clustered about said rock, murmuring to themselves. PlotlessStory nudged her in their direction. "Go join them."

Sam obeyed, and sat next to a tortoiseshell she-cat. The she-cat turned amber eyes on her, which appeared to big for her head. "Hi. I'm..." She paused, as if not remembering her name. "Number Three-forty-Nine. I think." The she-cat looked about as confused as Sam felt, and she took a minute to respond.

"Uh... Three-Thirty-Two.." Sam nodded at her, and retreated into her thoughts again, realizing that she hadn't known her own name since arriving.

"Yeah, me neither.." 349 turned her gaze back up to the rock, as one of the cats began to speak.

"Welcome to Fanclan. I'm Superstar, the leader here. This is my Deputy, Badlywritten." The leader of Fanclan was an reddish-brown tom. His deputy was a decrepit looking tom, whose one ear was completely torn off. He looked about eighty moons, and also like he was going to die at any second. Sam murmured so to 349, and the she-cat giggled.  
"Wow. A huge turnout this month. Three-Hundred and Forty-Nine.."

A large tom sprinted into the camp, another cat hanging from his jaws. The tom was huge, and completely black, with very thick fur. It was slicked back, and dripping water, as if he'd jumped into the brook or something. The cat he carried was tiny, only a little older than a kit, it appeared. The kit/apprentice was also dripping.

The tom headed to the mass of apprentices, and set the kit/apprentice down at the edge. It rose, and began to clean itself, unconcerned. "He fell in the river." Said the tom simply, before walking to one of the dens.

A soon as his initial shock cleared, the leader continued speaking. "Three-Hundred and Fifty, then." He amended, before carrying on with his speech.

* * *

xP You all hafta wait until next update to see the speech. Ufail. XD Yay Minto and Courtney for naming the Leader. 


	3. Chapter 3

xD Anyone who was actually reading this at One-Thirty in the morning got lucky. I decided to be random, and actually update again this month. 'Cause I'm bored, and Courtney is on-line. Yeah, doesn't make much sense. Too bad.

Sorry for anything that makes to sense. I'm so bloody tired, and slap-happy that nothing seems to register in my brain as 'sane'.

* * *

"Welcome to Fanclan." repeated the leader, Superstar. "This is the land of fan fiction gone bad. This is a place of tutelage, where all of you who have been brought here are to be taught how to properly write. This is not the only area in this place, but one of thousands, millions even, of teaching areas. The fact that you were landed in Fanclan means that all of you were brought for your _Warriors_ fan fiction. 

"Here in Fanclan, you have the status of apprentices. You will experience first hand what goes on in a clan, so when – if - you write once again, you will know how to properly describe things. You will also learn that not all cats are made out to be warriors, and especially not all kittypets, that up until recently lived on a white-picket-fence."

Sam felt her body temperature elevate slightly, and she shifted slightly. She noted that she wasn't the only one who moved. Several cats in the crowd also twiched.

"You will stay for one moon, possibly more, or until you have learned. Some will never learn, and will remain in Fanclan for all of their cat days. Until you return, your bodies are held in something twoleggers call a 'coma'.

"There are so many of you this time, and I'm afraid that Fanclan doesn't have quite enough warriors to take one a piece. Hence, you will be sharing apprenticeship, and your mentor, with one, or even two other cats.

"Now, you will be grouped, and sent to your mentors. Or rather, your mentors will be sent to you."

Sam sat there blinking. 349 shifted restlessly next to her. "Wow... that made no sense." Sam nodded in agreement. 349 continued on, as if the she-cat hadn't showed any response. "I wonder if we get names. Like, Hamsterpaw, or something like that."

Sam shrugged, managing to do so only by thrusting her shoulder blades painfully up from her back. Discs on her spinal column cracked softly, and a few heads turned in her direction, eyes searching and wary.

Warriors appearing from various places began sorting through the crowd, selecting cats here and there, and ordering them to follow each other. The small, damp kit who had been rescued from the river before made his way over in the direction of the two motionless she-cats. He was followed by the black tom who had rescued him.

The tom spoke, and sat back on his haunches, appearing to be in not quite as much in a hurry as the other warriors rummaging through the crowd of eager apprentices. "Hey. I don't feel like sorting through the masses of those to pick a couple of dense apprentices. You three were just sitting here, all lonesome looking, so I decided to snatch you up."  
Noting their lost expressions, he grinned, showing sharp, surprisingly large teeth. "Just follow me, and I'll attempt to go into far more detail than our dear leader.

"Name?" Questioned the fire truck-red apprentice, not moving.

"Oh, of course." The tom stood, preparing to leave, and turned in the direction of the woods, before glancing back at his three new charges. "I'm Inkheart. Both fitting, and with accordance to the land." With that, he set off, tail in the air.

349 blinked at her fellow apprentices, then rose, following their mentor. The tiny cat followed, and then Sam went after them, trying to wrap her mind around the confusion. They walked past various dens, and Sam heard little snippets of conversation. Jovial laughter rang from one, along with a few, higher pitched voices of kits. In one den, a loud voice could be heard saying, "He had a hole cut out of his side, that one. Didn't eve.." But as Inkheart strode on, Sam couldn't catch anymore of the what was said.

They stopped after passing through some wooded area, and rested by the brook Sam had been by before. It was a slight clearing, with just enough space for the four cats, and possibly a couple more.

"Alright. First off, we need names for the three of you." Inkheart looked thoughtful, before looking at the red apprentice. "You. You should be Burningpaw. Not only does it describe the colour of your pelt, but if you don't leave, you could be something like, "Burningsanity," or "Burningpaper", or something."

Burningpaw blinked, then nodded. "'Kay." He agreed softly, contemplating this.

Inkheart continued. "And then you..." His gaze turned on Sam, and she winced inwardly, reflexively. He grinned, almost evilly, and she quailed, and almost scooted backwards. "Nay, I wouldn't bring that on you. How about... Crinkledpaw. Then you could be Crinkledpaper."

The last she-cat met his eyes defiantly. "Please, spare me of your fetish for paper."

Inkheart chuckled, before naming her without thinking. "Blotchypaw. You could be Blotchy...erm... Ink." He blinked, and changed what he had been planning on saying. Maybe he did like paper.

**

* * *

Oh well. Moving right along. T.T**

* * *

"Now, for my first thing to teach you as your mentor, Cats don't usually have wings. Unless they are genetically engineered. By that's several miles to the north, so don't even think about it. Warriors will never wear jewellery. It would slow them down majorly. And point three. Cats aren't purple. Unless they've had a bucket of twolegger paint dropped on them, in which case, they would be very still, and it would wash off, and they would be restored to normal colours. Cats aren't blue, either. Or green, while we are on the subject. In fact, any colour that a cat normally wouldn't come in, they don't. Case closed." Inkheart stretched lazily, before continuing. "And.. that about covers it for now. You actually aren't supposed to learn anything on the first day. Congratulations. You are all ahead. Huzzah." 


	4. Chapter 4

Dude-Peoples. I don't have the link to the original. So for crying out loud, stop messaging me for it. T.T +eyetwitch+

Once again, the general idea doesn't belong to me, but to someone else. However, the particular topic this one circulates around is indeed my idea. If you had the same idea, and are like, oh-my-gosh, she is stealing my original idea, you should like, to eat yourself while dying in a ditch, (although if you are taking offence at this, it probably won't be in so many words), don't pull a Goldensun and spazz about it. Just message me, and I'll mention that other people have thought of similar things.

Finally..

Yes, I know that Inkheart is the name of a book. The thought didn't occur to me until after I typed it. So, to-freaking-bad. T.T

* * *

The day passed on rather slowly, and other, small groups of cats wandered past, as if being toured around. Thinking aloud, Crinkledpaw-who-was-up-until-recently-Sam questioned their mentor. "Are we going to get showed the territory, too?" 

The large black tom had been laying on his side, soaking in sunlight lazily. He opened one grey eye, and peered at her. "Well.." He blinked at Blotchypaw fled back to the other two apprentices, from her vantage point by the brook. "Erm... Yes. Our window is in a bit. When the sun reaches the skyline."

"Or in other words, when sunlight can't hit him." Muttered Blotchypaw to the other she-cat. Crinkledpaw chuckled, and nodded seriously, grinning trivially at the black tom. He shot them an amused glance, but said no more. Instead, he rolled onto his stomach and stretched.

After what seemed like an eternity, Inkheart stood and shook his head slightly, as if to clear it. Gesturing with his tail, he motioned for them to follow him, as he began a winding path through the undergrowth. As they passed things, he defined them. Some they knew already, for example, the field of large, oddly coloured shrubs was a dead give away that they were on the edge of their territory. Although there wasn't another clan in the nearby area, there was always the possibility of one, so they stood their and inhaled deeply until Burningpaw almost passed out. Inkheart quickly instructed him to exhale, and the problem was solved instantly.

Other things easily recognized were the Thunderpath, (otherwise known as a highway), and the grove of twenty, large trees. This, Inkheart insisted, was the meeting place. Crinkledpaw simply rolled her eyes, and exchanged a worried glance with the other she-cat. As they wandered lazily through the territory, the paused as another group passed through. The mentor here was a she-cat, whose pelt colour could only be described as one word: Blond. The two apprentices behind her were dripping wet, and looking soaked, but there was barely a trace of water on the mentor's fur. It had just sheeted off, as if she was made of plastic.

"Perfectcharacter." Inkheart said curtly, and then they kept walking. He gave no explanation, until they reached a tiny pebble. "This is Myron's Pebble. One day, a twolegger was passing through and dropped this pebble out of his pocket." He paused and considered a minute, before starting and kicking the pebble aside. "Wait, no. Wrong pebble. THIS is Myron's Pebble..."

The madness continued for well under an hour, but still it grew dark swiftly. Burningpaw purposefully stepped on their mentor's hind paw, and he suddenly realized what time it must be. "Back to camp, apprentices.."

Tired from doing nothing productive all day, they walked into camp, and took their places. There was a huge pile of fresh kill in the centre of the camp, and Crinkledpaw looked longingly at a small thrush. Instead, the camp formed into the group it had earlier, and Superstar jumped onto the rock to speak.

"I trust you have all had extremely unproductive things to do." He gazed around at al 350 apprentices, and their mentors. "This will change as of tomorrow. Tomorrow, an actual day will start, and you will begin actual training, with it. Tree climbing, hunting, Shrub Smashing.. All things you must learn to be updated in status." With that, the leader jumped off the rock, and they group were dismissed.

Food was passed out, and they were shown the way to the apprentice den. Blotchypaw flopped onto a nest of pine needles, moss, and Crinkledpaw before they were joined by Inkheart's other apprentice. Sleep flooded over the three of them immediately, and the night passed without any interruptions.


End file.
